Korea: #1 in pig intestine flavor, #134 in TOEFL scores

If you're still bothering to check this recently-neglected blog, I owe you an explanation.

Last time you tuned in, we were in Brazil, with plans to stay until March or April. Amber had a lingering case of dengue fever, which confined her to the hotel rooms for the most part. We were both starting to get cranky about it all.

To make a long story short, Amber decided to go back to the US to recover properly. In a way, that was kind of sad--we were finally in Fortaleza, and we immediately took a shining to the city. The whole plan was to stay in an appealing city in northeastern Brazil. By the time we found one, it was too late. Mosquitoes 1, Gringos 0.

At some point, it was just becoming plain stupid for us to be in Brazil. As you know, Amber was getting better only in fits and starts, and I was pretty damned sure that she'd be happier and healthier back home. Eventually, she agreed, and she's now resting in North Carolina with her best friend, Sprocket. (See picture.) Along with his humans, Heather and Ehren, Sprocket owns a lovely home in Wilmington, NC.

Once Amber decided that she wanted to go back, I started trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do if I left Brazil. One hour on Google chat with the owner of DemiDec, and I suddenly had an offer for a full-time editing/coordinating job. With a salary and stuff.

And the job offer had a big question attached: how quickly could I get to Korea? Would Saturday be okay?

Yikes. Turns out there's no direct flights from Fortaleza to Seoul. Actually, there's no direct flights from Fortaleza to anywhere useful, besides the Cabo Verde Islands. But I'll get to that part of the story.

Within 24 hours, Amber and I had agreed to the plan: we'd fly to the US and Korea, respectively, as soon as possible.

Then I got sick. Not foot worms, thankfully, but a fairly high fever. That would never really bother me in the US, but with dengue and malaria around, we were pretty spooked when the fever didn't go away for a few days. I suspected strep throat, but we wanted to be sure. Off to the hospital.

If you're keeping score, that would be hospital visit #8 of our Brazilian trip.

I could launch into another long description of Brazilian public hospitals (blood on the concrete floors...then there was the time I literally stepped over a body), but I won't. It started off as a pretty uneventful visit. A disinterested doctor diagnosed me with a bacterial thing--probably strep--within two minutes. In the usual style of these hospitals, he prescribed antibiotic and fever-reducing pills, but then also sent me to the medicine room for some fat shots of both. This much was no surprise--Amber had also gotten a few shots for her fevers during the past few months.

The surprise was, they were butt shots--my first since I was a kid. In my feverish haze, I didn't notice that the first needle was huge and filled with a whole lot of some creamy-looking fluid. It hurt, which was fine. The second needle wasn't so bad. I entertained the nurses by making a show of being shocked by the butt thing, and gave a theatrically feminine scream when they injected. Then I left for the waiting room.

In all seriousness, the next 90 seconds might have been the scariest of my life in some ways. Even scarier than when I was chased around by some white supremacists in Canada who decided that I was a Pakistani. I don't really understand what happened, but I had a bad reaction to the shots. Maybe it was just the sheer quantity of medication, I don't know. But as soon as I stepped out of the injection room, everything went gray and I crumpled. A male nurse happened to be right next to me--not that I remember this part--and carried me back into the injection room. They hooked me up to oxygen. I couldn't see anything, I lost feeling in my arms and legs, and I don't think I could speak--I'll have to ask Amber about that part. I remember having thoughts, but I don't think I got them out.

On one hand, this wasn't too big of a deal. A fainting spell, maybe? Just a little bit too much medicine injected too quickly? That's not so bad. Within a couple of minutes, my vision came back, and after 20 minutes, I felt fairly normal. The nurses seemed to think it was a mild allergic reaction to something--in any case, nothing too serious.

Here's what made it so damned terrifying: when Amber and I were planning this trip last summer, my mother, sister, and I all had nightmares on the same night about bad things happening in my travels. My sister's nightmare was the scary one--she dreamed that I died from getting a tainted injection in a hospital. So there I was in a third-world hospital (some Brazilian hospitals are great; this one was definitely rough), on the verge of passing out, thinking about Sonya's dream, with poor Portuguese-less Amber standing there, feeling helpless. She was probably more frightened than I was.

By the way, that series of dreams last summer played some role in our decision to go to Brazil instead of Mozambique. But that's another story.

So that was a humbling experience. Not a genuine near-death experience, but it was enough to mess with my head for a bit--especially against the backdrop of all of the health problems Amber has had on this trip.

After we returned to our hostel, Amber went to buy some groceries, and I rested for a bit. (Laying on my stomach--my ass was sore as hell from the shots for a few days.) A few minutes after she left, I heard some growly-dog noises, and two women screaming for the dogs to let go. I went outside, just in time to watch two dogs tearing a cat in half right in front of me. The cat was still protesting, barely. Really disturbing.

But hey, at least I didn't get any worms in my feet on this trip.

So the next day, I accepted the job offer and bought a crapload of plane tickets. Fortaleza to Seoul via Belem, Manaus, Miami, Chicago, and Shanghai. Six flights in all, for a total of about 12,000 air miles with four different airlines. The Chicago stopover was long enough to catch my breath--36 hours with Amber's wonderful family. Then off again.

I've been in Seoul for about five days now, in the middle of a crash-course in TOEFL, DemiDec, and Korean publishing. I have tons of stories. You don't get to read them right now.

All I'll say is that Korea is obsessed with TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language)--check out this article if you want details: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/17/world/asia/17korea.html?emc=eta1. But in spite of the obsession, Korea ranks #134 out of #147 countries in terms of their scores on the speaking section of the test. And you would be amazed by how much money goes into the test in Korea--the largest section of most bookstores is probably the TOEFL study guides.

But although Koreans don't do so well with TOEFL, they are great at cooking pig intestines. Innards are one of the great inevitabilities of international travel. Some local friend gets that slightly-evil glint in their eye at the dinner table, and decides that you need to try this really great local specialty. I've seen that look in at least five or six countries. It's the "hey gringo, have some tripe" look.

So we were at a street stall, eating some really tasty rice dumplings in spicy red sauce, when one of our Korean companions got that look. Next thing I knew, there was a piece of noodle-stuffed pig intestine in front of me. In a black sauce. And there was an audience. The owner of the stall had generously given it to me as a gift. He had the "tripe for foreigners" glint in his eye, too. I was stuck.

But it was actually good. I announced that Korea is #1 in pig intestines. I think the Koreans were proud.

I'll be back in the US on Monday, where I'll enjoy some relatively boring food. One more night in Chicago, then off to North Carolina--Wilmington for a few days, then probably Charlotte for a week or two. If any of you have any idea of how to write a TOEFL guide, send me an email.